


vows made in wine

by greywardenblue



Series: falser than vows [1]
Category: October Daye Series - Seanan McGuire
Genre: F/M, M/M, and Toby/Tybalt are not actually together yet, but there is clearly feelings/references to both which made tagging DIFFICULT, so basically Tybalt/Simon is in the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 15:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20194279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greywardenblue/pseuds/greywardenblue
Summary: "The thought of Sylvester calling my apartment only to find himself talking to Tybalt was strangely fascinating."There is no anger between Tybalt and Sylvester, but they have their reasons for avoiding each other's company.





	vows made in wine

**Author's Note:**

> “I pray you, do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.”  
\- As You Like It

October was warm in his arms even through the cold of the shadows, and she snuggled against him to keep the cold out. He smiled affectionately at her nursery rhymes, and carried her easily to her bedroom. One of her shoes fell down on the way, but he caught it before it hit the ground without letting go of her.

He was going to put her down and leave, that’s all. He was not going to think about how warm and soft her body felt, or how nice she smelled even under the alcohol, or how her hair fell in her face, or how much skin her clothes revealed (he pulled his hand back quickly when he accidentally touched her naked waist), or how she looked in his jacket. No, he was just going to put her down… but she looked so cold, with some of the frost still clinging to her hair and skin. He sighed and covered her with the jacket, then moved to stand up.

October reached out and caught his wrist. “Don’t go,” she murmured, half-asleep. “You smell nice.”

Tybalt faltered. He knew she was both drunk and tired, and he was not going to take advantage of that. But surely, there would be no harm in sitting with her until she fell asleep…

His fingers found her hair and ran through the strands, and she hummed approvingly at his touch the way she never would have while she was awake. That was enough to make him feel guilty about this, even as if felt so right. It was worrying, how right it felt. There were a hundred reasons why he should never fall for a woman of the Divided Courts, a changeling, or October specifically, but when she let out a sigh he could feel her breath on his skin, and he had trouble remembering any of them.

The phone rang. October stirred, and Tybalt was at the device to stop the harsh ringing without a second to think about what he was going to do.

Oh. Well, he had to say something now.

“October Daye’s residence. October Daye is currently unavailable. May I take a message?”

There was silence on the other end, then-- “Who is this?”

Tybalt sighed. “This is October Daye’s residence,” he repeated, his eyes finding a clock. The time suggested this was most likely a fae caller, but humans who were desperate enough to need private detectives likely didn’t keep to regular hours. “October Daye is currently unavailable. If you tell me your name and your business, I will leave her a note so she can call you back. Are you in need of a detective?”

“Oh, no. Well, yes, but…” The voice sounded familiar, but without context or the scent of the person, he couldn’t immediately place it. “This is her Uncle Sylvester. Did October get a secretary?”

Tybalt blinked, then a grin spread on his face. “Ooh,  _ Duke Torquill _ ,” he sang into the phone. “My apologies for not  _ immediately _ recognising your voice.” Not that it was surprising that he didn’t. The number of conversations they had since Tybalt had left London barely reached a dozen, and even fewer of them were one-on-one. 

“Rand? Is that you?” Tybalt made a face at the name. Sylvester had always called him Tybalt when others were around, but when it was just the two of them, the old name sometimes came out. He didn’t mind enough to speak up, even if he felt he should. “Where is October? What are you doing in her house?”

“She is safely asleep, I assure you. Now, if we could skip to what your business with her is, so that I can leave a note?”

There was silence on the other end again, and it went on longer than the first one. Tybalt realised how it must have sounded to have him in October’s house while she was sleeping. Perhaps he should have said she stepped out for something and left him to wait here, but why bother lying?

“You seem to have taken a liking to my family.”

Ah. So that’s why he should have bothered lying.

Sylvester’s voice was quiet, almost quiet enough that Tybalt might have thought he misheard the comment, but he knew that wasn’t true.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” he said flatly. There was always a chance the man only meant September, there was no reason for him to jump to conclusions or give anything away.

Sylvester laughed bitterly. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” 

“I assure you, there is nothing inappropriate between October and I.”

“But you wouldn’t tell me if there was, would you? You didn’t, the last time.”  _ Ah _ . “Oh, I knew about my sister, we all did, but she never considered you. But I didn’t know…” He trailed off. “I… the thought occurred to me, sometimes, but I always assumed that one of you would have told me if that was truly the case.”

Tybalt frowned and wished to be anywhere else. Being so casually reminded of his first unrequited love stung enough, but the other reminder almost stung more. No, it would have been difficult to decide which was more painful. They both hurt back then, and they hurt even more today.

“What is your business with October?” he pressed, voice growing cold. A small part of him felt guilty for dismissing Sylvester, knowing how much it would have taken the other man to even start the conversation - but no. This wasn’t the right time, and the right time would never come again. It would be best for them both if certain things stayed buried forever.

“Have it your way. I will just ask her about it, then.”

Tybalt laughed. “Please do. I wish you recorded that conversation for me, too. I would truly love to see her reaction.” Even if it would surely break his heart. Sometimes, it was better to break it fast and move on.

Sylvester sighed into his ear. “Please tell October I will be visiting her in a few hours, after tending to some business at the Queen’s Court.”

Tybalt looked around the apartment. It didn’t look like October was particularly prepared for noble visitors.

“I will make sure to let her know. Anything in particular you’d like to talk about?” It wasn’t any of his business, and he didn’t truly expect Sylvester to answer, but… maybe he did want to talk. Maybe he  _ was  _ curious what was going on with the friend he once had, even they had their reasons for not approaching each other.

The other man hesitated. “It’s about January,” he said finally, and Tybalt suddenly listened more intently. He’d only met January a couple of times, but… “She hasn’t called me in a while, and she’s not answering her phone. I just want October to go and make sure everything is alright.”

“How long has it been since she stopped calling?”

“Three weeks.”

Tybalt laughed again. “Please. If you were my Uncle, I would need a break from you sometimes, too. Especially at her age. What is she, a hundred?”

Sylvester’s answer was harsher than he expected. “Tybalt, please. Forgive me for being worried about my family after recent events.”

That shut him up. Three weeks weren’t a long time for an immortal or an estranged niece, but he could hardly blame Sylvester for worrying.

“I only meant to reassure you that it is most likely nothing major. I didn’t mean to cause offense.” This time, he was genuine.

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Sylvester said. He didn’t sound offended, only tired. Against his will, Tybalt’s thoughts went to the last fourteen years and the number of times he  _ didn’t _ visit. (Oh, there were a couple of times when he did, but they didn’t go very well, so he stopped trying. Should he have kept going?)

There was a mutual silence this time. Tybalt struggled for something to say, which rarely happened.

“I must go to the Queen now. You will give October my message?”

“Of course.”

“Good hunting, Tybalt.”

Tybalt smiled. “Kind fires, Sylvester.”

He put the receiver down and stared at it without moving, the smile slowly disappearing from his face.

\--

_ Rand being infatuated with September was the kind of open secret that the entire Torquill family including the servants knew about, and not everyone was above teasing him. They were both drunk on wine the night Simon offered to dress up as September so Rand can practice wooing her, and Rand agreed because it sounded hilarious. Still, despite the family resemblance, Simon didn’t look like September - he looked like Simon in a dress that didn’t look awful on him. _

_ Rand kissed him anyway, and then he knew it truly wasn’t September, because Simon kissed him back. _

_ It was never meant to be serious. Rand loved the Lady Torquill, and Simon loved the Lady fostered with them, the same way his brother did. It was never meant to be serious, even if Simon could make him laugh anytime with a well-timed snide comment, even if they turned out to have more opinions in common about the nobles of the Divided Courts than he thought possible, even if Simon’s lips touching his skin made him shiver pleasantly and reach out for the man as if pulled on a string, even if Simon sneaked into the human theaters with him and appreciated the art, even if September herself noticed the affair and earnestly said she thought they were a good couple, even if, even if, even if. _

_ During one of their fights - their fights were surprisingly rare, but all the more vicious when they happened - Rand told him the relationship was doomed from the start anyway, and Simon ran off to the New World with Sylvester and Amandine to prove him right. _

Tybalt didn’t see any of the Torquills for a time after the became King, and when he ended up in the Americas, he deliberately avoided any news about Simon Torquill for as long as he possibly could. By the time he heard from Simon again, the man was known as a villain, something Tybalt had trouble reconciling with the Simon he used to know.

He had often wondered if Simon ever told Sylvester about their relationship. This was certainly not how he expected to find the answer to that question.

Tybalt and Sylvester rarely talked in the present, and they had their reasons. They were friends once, or close to it, and Tybalt respected him to this day - but if you had lined up their little group based on their closeness to each other, they would have stood on opposite ends with fox-haired ghosts between them.

Two ghosts and a living, sleeping woman with the ghost of a name. That was one of the many reasons why he knew he should stay away, although one of the less significant ones: the irony of falling for another Autumn girl, Torquill in spirit if not in blood. Why Amandine thought naming her half-human daughter October would be the fitting tribute for the woman she grew up with, Tybalt didn’t know.

Thinking about Simon Torquill and then thinking about October Daye couldn’t be done without thinking about the obvious connection. Memories of his shoulder against Simon’s as they sat in disguise in the audience of Twelfth Night were now tainted by memories of Sylvester’s face driven mad by the loss of his family, and memories of the haunted look in October’s eyes on her way home from the convenience store she insisted on working at. He had trailed her home on four legs several times. Despite the mystery of the changed scent, he abandoned the possibility of something else wearing October’s face quite soon. No, this truly was the same changeling girl who got on his nerves years ago in the Summerlands, only she was a woman now. A miserable woman who had lost her own love and child to the cruelty of the man who kissed fruits and chocolate out of Rand’s mouth in the safety of the Torquill estate.

The pieces didn’t fit together, and he hated it. There were so many pieces that didn’t fit, and somehow, his changed feelings towards October were at the forefront. When did he start caring? The change came so subtly and quietly, he couldn’t have pointed it out.

Tybalt took a deep breath and went to search for a pen and paper. He sat down on the side of October’s bed, using the copy of As You Like It he found on the nightstand to write on.

_ October--  _ That was easy enough. He briefly considered addressing the note to ‘little fish’, but after his recent thoughts, it felt a little too dark. 

_ You were sleeping so peacefully that I was loath to wake you. Duke Torquill, after demanding to know what I was doing in your apartment, has requested that I inform you of his intent to visit after “tending to some business at the Queen’s Court”. _ His mind wandered to October’s revealing outfit that was currently mostly covered by his jacket, and her comment about his own trousers. Perhaps if he started visiting human clubs, he could meet her dressed like that before she became too drunk to walk. _ I recommend wearing something clingy, as that may distract him from whatever he wishes to lecture you about this time. Hopefully, it’s your manners. _

His eyes kept being drawn to the woman sleeping next to him, and his hands moved almost without thinking about it.  _ You are truly endearing when you sleep.  _ He paused and briefly considered striking the sentence out, but he decided to continue instead. _ I attribute this to the exotic nature of seeing you in a state of silence. - _ _ _ Tybalt _ _

He taped the note to the bedroom door and fed the cats before he left, even the rose goblin who was far from being his responsibility. He didn’t put that on the note - all his subjects deserved second breakfast sometimes.


End file.
